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18
THE RELIC
You left behind you, sweet my sweet,
A bunch of violets sadly blue
That girls can sell you in the street
For all my memory of you.
A bunch of violets sadly blue
That girls can sell you in the street
For all my memory of you.
In the crepuscule's dying gleam
Love's tears and kisses vainly pass:
Our days have faded like a dream,
And like a dream our nights, alas!
Love's tears and kisses vainly pass:
Our days have faded like a dream,
And like a dream our nights, alas!
There is slight memory of grief,
And on the soul dead pleasure lies
As lightly as a fallen leaf;
And on the soul dead pleasure lies
As lightly as a fallen leaf;
But with the faded flowers your eyes
Return, and from the withered sheaf
The ghosts of buried joys arise!
Return, and from the withered sheaf
The ghosts of buried joys arise!
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